The blizzard continued raging around us, with brutal wind sweeping across the mountainside and icy snow striking our faces, yet his intense blue eyes remained fixed on mine.

There was something fierce in the way he looked at me.

He seemed unwilling to accept that the storm, my injuries, or even death itself might take me away before he had the chance to save me.

“Emma.”

This time, he spoke my name softly, with a tenderness I never expected from a complete stranger.

I desperately wanted to answer him.

Questions crowded my mind about who he was, why his face matched the photograph my mother had hidden for years, and most importantly, how he already knew my name.